He Left Me for Someone Worthless

Summary

Of all the contacts on my phone screen, nearly seventy percent were tagged "Vincent - Client." My fingertip froze on the glass. Moments ago, in the parking garage of St. Jude’s Women’s Center, I had watched my husband, Vincent, carry a pink prenatal bag for another woman, the hospital’s logo burning into my vision.

I called his name. He turned, showing no panic, still holding the woman’s hand, and only frowned as if I were an interruption. "Sophia," he said, his tone more distant than with clients. "What are you doing here?"